Chalupas, Blankets, Wandering Thoughts
by Mortal Anonymous
Summary: Just a pair of agent soulmates, separated by a choice to go rogue, gathering their thoughts on how they got here.
1. Dakota

Well, here he was, drowning his sorrows again. This time it was in a platter of chalupas. Other men might have chosen to drown their sorrows in alcohol, but Vinnie Dakota preferred grease. Grease was warm. It filled him. He could almost pretend he was feeling the warmth of happiness restore his aching heart. Chalupas, cheese fries, burgers, egg rolls...ok, not egg rolls. Those were too painful to wallow in, thanks to that jerk making him feel like this in the first place. But other than that Dakota had tried it all this time around.

The short, wavy-haired man sighed, sagging further onto the arm supporting his head as he sat at the window bar of the Mexican restaurant he'd chosen for lunch, watching the people go by. Lots of partners out there. Lots of pairs. Lots of couples. It was like they said, cold turkeys were everywhere when you quit something, or in this case, when it quit you.

Stupid Cavendish. Normally Dakota would be here with the taller, older, admittedly thinner man, sharing his chalupas and filling himself with the joy food usually brought him. It wasn't just sorrow; Dakota ate all of his feelings. Dressing in tracksuits was not an irony lost on either man, and practically hearing Cavendish mock him with witty remarks over it only made Dakota miss him harder.

It had been two weeks since Balthazar Cavendish had gone rogue from Paranormal Investigation Group, leaving his partner behind in the process. Dakota didn't remember all of the details, but he was pretty sure he'd had his memory wiped before the Brit had booked it. He'd heard from their – his boss, Mr. Block about the whole 'rogue agent' thing, and the big blank space in his memory between trying to convince Cavendish to stay and then kind of made the pieces easy to put together. Two weeks made it officially clear that Cavendish wasn't changing his mind, as well. That or he was dead.

Dakota was bitter.

Thinking that Cavendish might have hurt himself was a worry that had kept him from sleeping. As well it was like Cavendish hadn't even remembered the hundred or so times his partner had literally thrown away his life to save his. A hundred timelines done over, that version of Dakota being written over and sent to some remote island in the middle of nowhere, just so the current Dakota could save Cavendish from disaster and keep him around.

When the secret had gotten out and Cavendish had _seen_ this with his own eyes back during the Pistachio Uprising, the older gentleman had acted truly touched as well. He'd been grateful then, even going so far as to try and shield Dakota an extra amount in turn as the humans rebelled.

So what had happened?

Cavendish had thrown Dakota to the wayside anyway, that was what.

Somehow their new job had planted a seed in Cavendish's mind, and that seed had only grown, overtaking the man and making him forget himself, almost making him seem like an entirely different person.

Dakota wished it was a literal seed, like some evil pistachio monster sprout he could just rip out of the other and save him from.

Alas, no. Though the two had been saved from unemployment after getting fired from being time agents, effectively trapping them in the twenty-first century, their new job was no more glamorous than guarding nuts had been. In fact, it was even less so, since they were now intergalactic garbage boys. And that had caused Cavendish some severe frustration.

The absolute lack of recognition for saving the world from hostile plant takeover had truly bothered the man. Their reward of being _fired_ had lit its own fire in the older man. Dakota had done his best to keep things light, console the other man and show his partner that it he didn't need to be center stage to take pride in a job well done, but the injustice had just been too much for Cavendish to handle.

And then he'd started talking about aliens.

Dakota felt another sigh coming on as he processed all the conversations they'd had leading up to where they were now. He'd been there to witness some of the alien encounters, but not all of them. Despite his bitterness as well, he still wanted the best for Cavendish. Maybe they weren't the ideal odd couple or anything, but they'd grown close over the years of assignment together, becoming best friends, and Dakota at least had thought neither one could live without the other anymore.

Perhaps that had been what had blinded him to any potential warning signs. Dakota hadn't been terribly crushed when every single undiscovered alien specimen, living or inanimate, that they tried to show their boss had escaped. Dakota believed that they'd seen so many already that they were sure to get it right one of these times.

Cavendish, not so much. He'd become obsessed, Dakota realized much too late, and all his breezy remarks and lighthearted brush-offs had only sent his partner spiraling, making him feel even less recognized, like he was making less progress.

Ok, so maybe Cavendish wasn't as much of a jerk as Dakota let on. Maybe Dakota hadn't read the situation as well as he could have. Give him a break, he wasn't a licensed psychotherapist or anything.

As well, love was a pain when it came to reading situations well. Everything was all rose-tinted, and if Dakota had had anyone to share the sentiment with, he would say that made it twice as hard considering he was already wearing orange-tinted glasses. It was clever, come on, he would say.

Instead he only regretted no one was here to hear his oh-so-snappy banter, as a quick glance around the proximity confirmed. He also regretted how he had handled supporting Cavendish after the most recent sighting the man had made, for that had been what tipped the man over the edge.

This one had been an outright abduction. And Dakota hadn't seen it. He'd been nearby, munching on a lunch he'd packed, but had not been facing the same way as a mere twenty feet away Cavendish had claimed to witness some poor sap being sucked up into a giant purple alien mothership, which he had then been unable to prove.

Dakota had not wanted to discredit his partner, and never outright said that it couldn't have happened, but at the same time, how could he claim it was the truth when he _didn't_ know for sure? Considering the things they'd seen especially, yes it was _possible..._but it had been hot, Cavendish had been cranky, and any attempt to gather evidence had simply come up empty.

Dakota couldn't tell his boss the truth when he didn't know the truth. Cavendish had seen the lack of a voucher as betrayal. Dakota tried to say that if the other said he saw something it ought to be worth looking into by the better-equipped agents, but Mr. Block had cut him off. In Cavendish's state of mind, he probably thought Dakota ought to have tried harder. Maybe Cavendish was right. But Dakota had still thought calming down and taking a step back was in his partner's best interest.

It still might have been, but Dakota just wasn't knowledgeable enough on the topic to know how he ought to have persuaded Cavendish to do so. He'd only been able to follow in a mesmerized stupor of sorts as Cavendish lost it, leading the two of them into PIG's weapons facility and stealing a whole damn arsenal.

The persistent hesitant remarks from what Cavendish had seen as an escalating traitor had been the end. As soon as Dakota had gotten back home, it was just in time to get his mind wiped.

So here Dakota was.

He wished he'd been more open when the signs had started forming. Been more supportive and tried harder to remind Cavendish if their own bond, rather than only bringing it up when the man was about to walk out.

In these past couple of weeks, Dakota's own speech had been the only thing keeping him going. It was all that gave him hope. He and Cavendish _had_ always been a team. They _did _fight, or at least squabble, half the time, but they always made up in the end. In fact, Dakota told himself he had to know that they'd be alright in the end because they'd seen their future. A future where the fighting had gotten to them so much that the tension had been snapped by a single egg roll, and yet even after all _that_, they had made up and erased the timeline where they'd broken up. Both of them had broken dozens of rules to get the other back, both gone through dozens of convoluted and elaborate plans to fix their relationship, and in the end they'd gotten a happy life together.

Dakota refused to let the nagging fear of how no longer being time agents could potentially change that future.

He also refused to compare the silliness of an egg roll being the root of a breakup to one so serious and ongoing as...all this.

He swallowed a mouthful of chalupa to stuff those troublesome thoughts down.

Cavendish was just hung up on justice. He'd make his way back here eventually, surely. He wanted recognition, Dakota could understand that. But why did he have to be the _world's_ hero? Why did he have to push so hard for 'glamour'? What did he think joining a _secret_ organization like the time agents or PIG was about in the first place?

And why couldn't he be happy just saving the world side-by-side with Dakota? A man who already acknowledged his efforts and loved the living daylight out of him despite what a stuffy, arrogant know-it-all Cavendish could be sometimes. Cavendish was also bright and handsome as could be, a proper dapper gentleman, though hilariously clumsy to go with it, and he had a tendency to lose common sense or focus on the wrong things. That just made him delightfully quirky. He was endearing when he was bashful or indignant, which only invited playful teasing. When he let loose he was plenty playful himself, which made such rarities a real treat. He was kind and sweet at the heart of it all, and when he was around it just never failed to bring a smile. Not to mention he was incredibly, admirably determined and full of righteous spirit. It always managed to motivate Dakota.

Hand touching an empty platter, Dakota registered that he was officially out of chalupas. One more sigh. "Oh, Cav..." he lamented, "I wish I would've told you how happy I was every day, just having you as _my _hero." He watched another pair of people walk by the window, holding hands. "Well, whaddya gonna do..."

Unsure how much this had really helped, Dakota pushed his tall chair out and dug into his wallet to throw a couple bucks on the counter as tip before heading out. Looking at the time on his phone, he was done being glum for now anyway. Rent was due tomorrow, and he was working alone these days. He couldn't afford to clock in late.


	2. Cavendish

The middle of the woods was a lousy place to live. Cavendish couldn't believe how he'd never noticed it on quite this level before. Then again, he'd never been _alone_ in the middle of the woods before. He'd always had his partner Dakota with him to distract him with utter nonsense or the rare comment that was actually funny. He'd always had Dakota with him to help gather berries, fight off bears, save him from falling in rivers and to snuggle up beside under a warm blanket.

Now, however, as the green-suited man finally sputtered his way to the bank of the river he'd slipped into while attempting to refill his canteen – admittedly his sleek-soled spectator shoes were not the most ideal for roughing it – Cavendish could safely say that on one's own, the wilderness was not to be enjoyed.

Recovering his breath, the tall mustachioed Englishman picked himself up and began peeling off his sopping waistcoat. His canteen had been a casualty in this misadventure, unfortunately, but no matter. Cavendish might not have a paycheck anymore, but by Jove he had the gumption! He would get by.

Once back at his sad, sparse little campsite, Cavendish was quick to hop behind the modesty curtain he'd fashioned from fronds and a vine between two trees and strip the rest of the way. Then he wrapped himself firmly and snugly in a thick blanket and hung his dripping garments on the spit he also used to cook. From there he would build a fire and simply sit to both warm and dry himself.

The silence while he did all this was nigh maddening. And the tasks themselves incredibly boring. It was like a riff track for Cavendish's life had gone suddenly silent. Probably because it had.

Alone with his thoughts while he had nothing to do but un-sop himself, Cavendish let out a despondent hem as he thought naturally of Dakota. It wasn't hard for that loud-mouthed clown to enter one's thoughts normally, but anytime it was quiet made it a hundred times easier. Especially when it was quiet, Dakota wasn't there, and one had run out on him with such a gaping conflict left unresolved.

Cavendish missed Dakota. That much was easy to admit. He regretted walking out in such a dramatic fashion. That much was also a given. But he wasn't going back, and he truly wished Dakota had tried just a little harder to see things from his perspective. Cavendish might have lost his cool, but sometimes Dakota was...infuriating, to say the least, and repeated instances of that flippant attitude had been bottling up something awful as of recent. Ever since they'd gotten new jobs.

Cavendish knew what he saw. It hadn't been because he was "tired and cranky"...although he might have had a tiny history of slightly immature tantrum-related exaggerations in the past. But this wasn't that! He'd seen _many_ instances of unmonitored alien activity, and so had Dakota! Dakota was being the immature one here, cowering because of things like "rent" and "being stuck in a single era of time" instead of standing up for him and helping him rob PIG without a winge!

...dear lord, when had Dakota actually become the mature half in this relationship? Cavendish pouted, knowing the excuses he made were just that. Though it was hard to do, he acknowledged that Dakota could _sometimes _act like a responsible adult, and he had made a fair few points regarding their status of living, but really. As he'd told the track-suited nincompoop, Dakota was usually the one for breaking rules, especially when it came to doing so for the right cause! Cavendish wanted to save the world here!

Ok, well, he also wanted a promotion. A big promotion. And a lot of overdue accolades. But was that so wrong?

He was out there every day busting his tail, with a partner busting his chops, cleaning up things most people didn't even know were there in the first place. Sure this time around their boss had been kinder, but it didn't make it any less disheartening when he didn't believe what he heard. If anything, that chipper tone was more patronizing.

Likewise, Dakota had been so...pass-offish about the whole incident. He'd been more and more pass-offish about Cavendish's concerns the more they grew. Telling Cavendish to take it easy, to not worry about it, to seek therapy or take up yoga or something. Balderdash. Action was what was needed now! Aliens were threatening the very planet!

Letting his eyes slide from side to side, the bespectacled man supposed perhaps he wasn't taking much action at the moment...but he was out here so he _could_ take action! The giant mothership was only just over in the next clearing. Cavendish was keeping an eye on it, as well as aiming to prove it existed despite its confounding attempts to conceal itself from absolutely every set of eyes but his.

How could Dakota not see the importance in that? Alright, so perhaps Dakota hadn't actually seen the ship. Perhaps helping him dig for proof had yielded nothing that actually helped Cavendish's case. And perhaps Dakota had never outright denied the possibility, never called it unimportant, and had still helped the other man despite his comments.

But...

But...

Perhaps Dakota had just been trying to calm Cavendish down because he'd been spiraling.

With another glance around the campsite, the wet, naked man registered how preposterous this setup must actually look. It hit him just how suddenly he'd stormed out, and how irrational it might have been to recklessly raid his own workplace, even if he only had good deeds in mind.

Dakota was good at keeping a mood subdued. He was comfortable. He was confoundingly charming, strangely witty and able to make a joke out of the most mundane observations. That habit was exactly what could get so frustrating, but compounding it with the frustration Cavendish had been feeling over being ignored by his boss, perhaps he had misinterpreted his partner's quips and suggestions. The taller gentleman did have a tendency to misplace his focus, and recognized he sometimes needed something to root him down in a spiral.

Cavendish reeled in Dakota's overly-free reckless spirit, and Dakota tied down Cavendish's high-strung obsessiveness. That's just how they balanced each other. It worked for them. Cavendish had accepted that.

So maybe Dakota wasn't as stupid as he'd been making him out to be.

In fact, Dakota wasn't stupid at all. Or cowardly. Dakota was actually fiercely loyal to those he cared about. Protective and selfless too, as evidenced by the hundred or so times he'd erased his own timeline to keep sharing Cavendish's. That right there made Cavendish feel a pang of regret over his own actions. This was almost like throwing all that heartfelt love and devotion back at the man, abandoning him. But the Englishman also hoped Dakota had realized by now that he'd half done that to protect him.

Since Dakota wasn't with him one hundred percent on stopping the alien mothership, Cavendish saw that continued involvement from his partner would not only hinder his own mission, but would likely end up with Dakota getting into undeserved trouble. Not to mention at the time, being emotionally charged, Cavendish had seen his lack of involvement as pure backstabbery. Add that onto the regret pile.

He also refused to think about what might transpire if the worst should happen out here. If he died now, no one would know. Dakota wouldn't know, nor would he be capable of time travel.

Firmly tugging the blanket around him tighter, Cavendish grunted to distract himself from _that_ particular spiral. Though thoughts of Dakota carried on without consent. The man was bad with words when it came to negotiation or expressing his feelings, but he was good at seeing things for how they really were, and had a blunt honesty about sharing it. Cavendish admired that about him, in a way. It was a quality that had helped them many a time.

Thinking of time, the elder gentleman recalled a version of Dakota saying that he never admitted when Dakota was right. That he always had to put Dakota down for the sake of his ego. They'd broken up in that timeline, that comment being what tipped the iceberg after a swiped egg roll had brought that boiling tension to the surface. Quite thankfully, they'd made up in the end, and put the timestream right by them. Cavendish couldn't help thinking this current falling out was even more evidence that Dakota was right about him never saying Dakota was right, for perhaps if Cavendish had listened and taken a step back from his actions, they would still be together, and working on this as a team.

Well, if the stout man was here, Cavendish would be more than ready to tell him.

Blast it all. The more Cavendish thought about what he was doing and what he was away from, the more he was just depressing himself.

But he still had to do this. The fact of the matter was that he couldn't go back even if he wanted to, and Dakota still likely didn't believe the other had truly seen something, so he would also be owed a big fat "I told you so."

There. Now Cavendish was remembering himself a bit better.

Maybe Cavendish's reasoning for pursuing the alien ship wasn't entirely noble, but it was still more noble than not considering he was the only one who actually _knew_ about it. He was going to save humanity whether humanity liked it or not! Whether they recognized him or not! But, most preferably, with them recognizing him.

This was another thing Dakota likely couldn't understand about his motivations. The smaller man liked to go on about how Cavendish didn't _need_ to be world-renowned, but at the same time, had Dakota ever actually striven for such a thing?

Dakota was a laid-back soul, happy to take what life gave him and be content where the wind took him. He didn't kick up a fuss about lost dreams or ever mention aspiring for lofty greatness.

Meanwhile, Cavendish had been a liaison in the Royal Court of England. He'd had a future as a concert pianist should he have chosen it. He'd spent his whole life schooling in various departments and trying to make the world a better place where he thought it mattered most: the frontlines.

When he'd joined the time agency, he'd thought it sounded awfully important, keeping time itself safe, but he'd ended up...guarding pistachios. With a ninny no one else wanted to partner up with. Though apparently no one had wanted to partner up with Cavendish, either. He didn't know how, but in this circle he had ended up on the bottom rung of the social ladder. This also had turned out to be one job he actually wasn't...always the best at. He could be a bit too proud, hoping for so much out of his work, but honestly...he just missed it.

As much as Cavendish liked corn dogs and bungee jumping and silly frolics through the park, he also enjoyed dignity. Some refinement now and again. At the very least he'd thought his coworkers would give him some of that, even if the world didn't considering it was a secret organization, but no. He and Dakota both had only been mocked and beaten down time and again, and in the end they'd truly only had each other.

It was a good thing they'd ended up getting along so well.

It might have even been a good thing that such unfortunate circumstances had brought them together in the first place. It was actually enviable and a wonder Dakota could manage to stay so cheerful after all they'd been put through. Cavendish had to wonder if that actually had anything to do with _him_.

Cavendish shook his head slowly, sadly. Perhaps eventually he would find his way back to Dakota. Perhaps eventually Dakota would even understand. But for now Cavendish could only move forward and prove to everyone – prove to _himself_ that he wasn't just a total screw-up and a loser. He also wished he would dry quicker so he could stop pining for the love of the one person who had treated him as a close friend and equal from the beginning. The one person Cavendish was truly despising living without.

The man by the campfire stood to fetch himself another blanket. It was no second body to hug him in comfort, but if he tried hard enough he might be able to pretend.


	3. Cavendish and Dakota

"I was _wrong, _Dakota."

Those words sent a splash of icy stun up through the short Italian's stomach, instantly muting his indignation and desire to argue. Cavendish's tone was so soft, so earnest...and the taller man wasn't making excuses.

With just that one little sentence he was acknowledging that abandoning his partner had been cruel and rash; he was showing his regret, and validating every bit of effort Dakota had put into trying to support him.

"I _am_ sorry."

Dakota still had more he wanted to discuss, but this was enough to lower his hackles for now. He opened his arms and invited Cavendish in for a brief warm hug to signify he considered them made up. They were in a good enough place that the two of them could focus on the emergency at hand: rescuing Milo Murphy from space.

Cavendish hugged his partner firmly. It was only a second-long embrace, but during that second he felt an immense wave of relief and gratitude wash over him. Dakota could forgive him. The mustachioed Brit had told himself he'd be more than ready to admit the other man had been right, and he'd done it. It seemed to be what Dakota had most needed to hear as well. It was a much quicker resolution than expected, but perhaps the pressing urgency of Milo's abduction was a factor there. At the very least Dakota's temper was subdued and he agreed to pick this particular argument up later.

It was hard to say how much later the two were finally able to pick it up, as in space there was no frame of reference to Earth's day cycle, but the rescue mission had become a world-saving mission on the alien planet of Octalia, and once the ragtag group of Milo's friends and acquaintances had managed to stop said planet from being engulfed in a destructive whirlwind of negative probability, they were given a fresh spaceship to replace the one they'd sloppily repaired to get here and were on their way home. This was when Cavendish found the man he'd boarded side-by-side with turning to him. The others had all spread out in the large control room, gravitating towards their own social circles and content to relax for the journey as autopilot escorted them.

"Cav..."

The tone was of a seriousness not often associated with Dakota, and it was enough to make the taller man tense. He'd been dreading this. He'd almost been hoping it would have been dropped altogether. They'd done well enough together on this trip, hadn't they? So why the need to carry on with a hard discussion when they'd made up?

Nevertheless, Dakota tipped his head towards one of the many branching corridors leading away from this central area. "C'mon, let's go find a room. It's time we talked."

The wavy-haired man headed off, and though Cavendish gave pause and swallowed dryly, not knowing what to expect, he placed his arms stiffly behind his back and followed.

After a couple of failed attempts to find a room not full of loud engine parts or dangerous machinery, Dakota deemed fitting a sizable empty room with only a few boxes and a smattering of what looked to be alien tools taking up a small corner. Good enough. He entered and slumped his back against the wall to the door's left, folding his arms and waiting for Cavendish to settle himself. He did, merely holding his stiff, worried posture as he came to face the shorter man. The door closed itself behind him.

There was a brief deafening silence as Cavendish wondered who was expected to start.

"Please, Dakota," he felt he had to give himself the chance to appeal, finally moving his hands in front of him in a gesture of meekness, "You have to understand that I didn't _want _to do what I did. But I thought it was the right thing. Of course now I realize that _you _were the right thing. I just got..." A brief sigh. "I just got carried away. As I do."

Of course Dakota knew that much. Getting carried away with delusions of grandeur had been exactly what he'd been trying to talk Cavendish _down _from before he left. Unusually grim eyes flicking for the large imploring ones in front of him, he chose to ask, "Do you feel better now?"

Cavendish blinked, standing a bit straighter. "Better..?"

"Now that you've saved a world. Now that you got to be some big hero that was part of something an entire planet is going to remember forever. No timeline being altered to make them forget. Do you feel better, or are you still going to insist on following every little breadcrumb that falls from space and making your own molehill mountains out of everything we encounter?" Really, _every _encounter was not world-threatening. He'd tried to drill that into Cavendish's head once, but the very next minute had been when he'd started raving about seeing an abduction and become more obsessive than Dakota had ever seen him.

Cavendish's brow furrowed upward in guilt as he folded his own arms to grip himself. He actually had to think about this. _Did _he feel better..? He certainly didn't feel good about what it appeared Dakota was expecting from him. It was admittedly...shamefully...valid, however. Dakota had no way of knowing if Cavendish would turn into as obsessive a gloryhound as he had been a second time. But Cavendish wanted to assure him.

"I swear to you, Dakota, I will _not _leave you like that again," he said sternly, "I was selfish to go and try to save the Earth by myself, and by such reckless means. As it turns out, it was the aliens that needed saving anyway. I realize by making all those assumptions and rushing to make it all fit my own narrative, I compromised our jobs, our livelihoods and our relationship. I had a lot of time to think by myself in the woods. And in that stasis cube...ray...thing I was trapped in."

It still wasn't clear what kind of trap he'd triggered after stumbling over the Octalians' plans to go after Milo, but it wasn't important to the point he was trying to make.

"Thanks to that time, and especially after I was frozen, I recognize more than ever just how hard it is getting by without you. Yes, being a part of saving this world felt as good as doing any other good. But it feels even better to be back doing that good with _you._"

Dakota's own brow knitted slowly as he listened. They were pretty words, but he still doubted Cavendish understood just how badly he'd hurt him. "I want to believe you," he said as sincerely as he could manage, using his hands to talk as he generally found himself struggling to convey himself with as fancy language as the other, "But I still don't get _why _you ever left me behind in the first place! I tried! I tried my best to do everything I could to support you, to get your inflated head out of those clouds, but..!"

Feeling himself getting worked up, he clenched his fists over his sunglasses and let out a frustrated sound as he crushed his eyes shut, trying to get himself back on track. "I mean you did it once, so I'm not sure I can trust you just _saying _you won't do it again. Do you have any idea what _I _went through without _you_? I spent every day wondering why I wasn't good enough for you, what I could have done better, wondering if you were _dead!_"

Cavendish's posture had been in recoil to Dakota's uncharacteristic riled volume, but the smaller man could see him react with a flinch to that last part. Nice to see he remembered how death-prone he was after all, then.

"I was so desperate to find you, to have answers, to make sure you were alright, I had a man clone your head onto a platypus' body so I could interrogate it!" Surely Cavendish hadn't thought that he wasn't going to worry about him! Or look!

The British man blinked. "Is _that _where that abomination came from..?" It had come along with Dakota and Professor Time – known as Doctor Doofenshmirtz in this time period – on the rescue mission.

"Yes, yes it is!" Dakota responded, still curtly, "And he wasn't even that helpful! But we did still find you, and I thought you were dead all over again when I saw you stuck in that trap ray! And a few seconds later, you were so weak once I got you out that I thought you were going to die in my _arms! _You have no idea how worried I was I'd never see you again! That we'd never patch this one up!"

In a regular argument, Cavendish would have bitten back at some of these remarks that he wasn't an infant that needed looking after twenty-four-seven, but this time his partner's voice was distraught, and registering the edges of stressful tears behind Dakota's orange-tinted lenses as he stepped forward, Cavendish found any rebuttal at all stifled. The man had been absolutely sick with fear over the worst for him. It appeared they'd both had thoughts about that, but it had hit Dakota at his core.

"I'd...thought about the worst, too, really," the taller man replied, putting a hand out to Dakota's shoulder to console him, "Nor do I wish to make light of the sacrifices you've made for me in the past regarding that. But I was...stubborn. I was sure raw determination would be enough to get me through. I was blinded, and of course your talent for observing what is right under my nose would have saved me that last misfortune."

A hem. "As I said before, I also thought it was safer to keep you unaware of my whereabouts. I felt I simply _couldn't _return, though I'd hoped to eventually."

Dakota allowed himself to be calmed by that hand. It was a decent reminder that Cav was still here with him now, and they had this chance to clear the air properly. "How?" he challenged, "How was it _safest _to be out there all alone risking your hide doing who-knows-what with a bunch of weapons you stole from a paranormal defense agency?"

Cavendish hunched. "Well, when you put it like that...but it _wasn't _like that! I'd thought that if you weren't behind me one hundred percent, then it was better to not risk you getting into trouble..! I didn't want you to fall behind and get punished for something you didn't even believe in...again." Dakota had already fallen behind during the arsenal raid and gotten in trouble for that, and that had been at the pinnacle of the mustachioed man being fed up with Dakota's seemingly passive attitude.

Clearing his throat a bit timidly, Cavendish had to admit his less-noble motivations as well. "Of course I also...thought you were betraying me somewhat at the time and...felt that it was my duty to uphold justice whether you liked it or not."

Dakota closed his eyes and let out a sigh, dragging a palm down his cheek. "Yeah, I got _that_ sense." Looking back up at the other he added, "I suppose I can see where you were coming from. But I still don't see why you went rogue in the first place. Why do you care so much about what the world thinks of you? Why've you gotta be some grand hero?" Recalling a regret he'd had during one lunch session, he decided to do something about it now. "Why isn't it enough what _I _think of you? You were...you can be _my _hero just fine, y'know. Y-You're Cavendish. You motivate me." It was his turn for a meek shrug as he glanced to the side.

The grey-haired man's face softened as those words touched his heart the utmost. It was so easy to forget Dakota had such complex emotions when he always projected such an air of carelessness. To brush him off. But every once and a while he said something that was so plainly blunt and yet reminded just how deep and human he really was at heart. He was a good man, a great partner, and a marvelous boyfriend. How had Cavendish ever gotten so wrapped up in himself to forget it all so thoroughly?

"Dakota...I will do my best to explain," he finally managed to grant the other, "I don't really need to save the world. It's just that...well, it almost seems like something that big is all I have left as a hope of bettering my place in it. In our line of work, it's...different than how things were for me before. You know that." Dakota knew Cavendish came from a posh background of high education and some of his many old positions in high places. "I have always sought to do good at the front of society, with the best of my skills. I'd always been praised for my accomplishments and regarded highly. So finding myself in a repeated position as the butt of every joke at the time agency and now P.I.G., it just...makes me miss having something as basic as the recognition of a coworker. A simple 'Job well done!' or a pat on the back. It fills me with a sense of purpose knowing somebody at least _respects _the work I do when I strive so hard to help people. As much as I enjoy gallivanting about and eating greased food with you, I just miss...having any semblance of _dignity_." Was it so wrong to wish that his superiors could regard him as more than a disappointment just once more? That he could be seen in the public eye as something as simple as a pleasant gentleman? He admitted he'd gotten carried away trying to reclaim his dignity in such a grand way, but surely Dakota could see his point of view.

Not to make the other man feel as though he wasn't valued in this picture, Cavendish pressed, "I don't think there was anything you could have done differently. It was my own fault I disregarded you. I'm truly sorry I didn't realize how strongly my decision would impact you. Believe you me, it wasn't any easier being apart from you. Shocking as that may seem."

The two shared a small half-smile there. "Yeah..?" Dakota goaded, obviously fishing for praise.

With a fond hum to see that the mood had been successfully lightened, Cavendish supposed he could let Dakota have this one. "Of course. Your insufferable snark was missed dearly. As were your admittedly rather comfortable arms."

Dakota's head tipped slightly, accepting the jab but also appreciating the genuine sentiment that followed.

On a more serious note, he gave, "Well...I'm sorry I didn't read what was going on so well. I didn't know all that was eating you so bad. I know you like things to go right. And I'm sorry I wasn't maybe as gung-ho about promotions and stuff as you might have wanted, but the way I see it, we got plenty of time to get things right. Maybe I was pushing my own way a bit too hard, but all that insufferable snark is just 'cause I want to help you enjoy what you _got. _You do that, you can enjoy the ride while you work towards the rest."

Cavendish's eyelids lowered slightly in a knowing sort of way. "Indeed." He'd figured that out for himself already, but he still appreciated Dakota's effort. The Brit really was a fool to have fled such a partner as this.

Smiling back at the other, feeling as though they'd finally reached an understanding, Dakota suggested, "And hey, you wanna do something dignified? How about when we get back to Earth we go to a...museum, or a newspaper factory, or a...hat...top hat...convention." He pointed vaguely at Cavendish's miniature top hat as he faltered to think of fancy establishments they could visit. They weren't generally his thing.

Finding this lack of cultured experience amusing, Cavendish let his lips form a proper endeared smirk. "That sounds splendid," he granted, "And afterward, I can take you out for that burrito I owe you." He too was feeling like the pair had found their common ground at last. This conversation had gone so much better than he'd feared.

With a soft chuckle, Dakota wiggled in a jokingly aroused manner and quipped, "Oo, don't you know how to sweet-talk~."

Cavendish rolled his eyes at the jester's display. "Only simpletons, I'm afraid."

Now this was the kind of sniping they could enjoy.

Dakota ceased his little dance and let out a fond breath through his nose as a familiar warmth entered his chest. A sense of normalcy and comfort. "I've missed you."

Cavendish blinked at this ready admission, but just the same could feel how the atmosphere had thickened with a sense of coziness. He returned the look he was getting. "And I, you."

Almost as an immediate response, Dakota's arms opened and he grinned, "Alright, bring it in. Time for a _real _make-up hug."

It was allowed, and the two embraced firmly, this time letting their reunion linger with the sense that it was done right. They each felt the other's body relax in the others' hold, their eyes sliding closed and a slow stream of air escaping as they basked in the shared warmth. For Cavendish, he was truly appreciating how much better this was than enveloping himself in a few extra blankets. For Dakota, he was truly seeing how badly he'd missed this hold, and how glad he was that he hadn't lost it.

As the hug went on, the stout Italian only felt the heat in his chest glow brighter, feeling his gladness escalating into a need to further his affection. He'd been so lost without his lifelong companion and he needed to express his joy at having him back, all to himself in this little shared moment of contentment.

Cavendish felt Dakota stirring against him, moving to grip his arms, and when he shifted in turn to look at what he was doing, he found the man pressing up on his toes to deliver a solid kiss.

The taller man's eyes widened, but only for a second. His gaze flicked for the closed door of the room they were in, but then back to Dakota. He felt the loving gesture set off a swelling in his own chest, and supposed it was only reasonable to reunite officially with a kiss. The mood felt right for it.

Letting himself return it, Cavendish held the smaller man close and pressed his lips softly for a moment before lifting his head and pulling away.

Attempting to follow Cavendish's movement as he leaned back, Dakota was unable to keep the link between them and complained instead. "Hey, hey, hey..! I wasn't done yet..!"

With a quirk of his brow and another flick of his gaze towards the door, Cavendish reminded the man now clinging to him, "We _are_ with company...the others are all still right down the hall." The gentleman didn't see it as good form to prolong affectionate displays around others.

Scoffing, Dakota returned, "Oh c'mon, it's a big ship. They don't even know where we are." Without waiting for an argument he stepped forward and pressed Cavendish into the wall beside them. His fingers clutched more tightly around the other man's upper arms. "Let me have this. I thought I was gonna lose you. Don't tell me you're not feeling a little love too."

That said, he pushed forward again, effectively pinning the taller man and reclaiming his lips.

Those words made Cavendish blush. "That's not the-" His sentence was swallowed as Dakota stole a fresh kiss from him. He felt himself blush deeper as the kiss was deepened. The wavy-haired man's motions were weighted and deliberate as he clearly reveled in the flavor of his partner. It wasn't as though Dakota was completely off the mark, either. Cavendish felt the love glowing between them quite fiercely, and the way he was kissed was dizzying. He just had that nagging mortification at the edge of his mind on the off-chance someone discovered him making out in secret like some teenaged ruffian.

And yet he very much saw Dakota's point. As the man rubbed against him, motivated purely by the fact that his partner was here to kiss, Cavendish felt the same whim infecting him. The pair did not act intimately often, so the fact that they were here with one another after such a lengthy and difficult separation made it seem an occasion worth acting upon.

Slowly, Cavendish felt himself bend to Dakota's do-as-he-may will. He just had that convincing way about him. Pressing back, Cavendish put his arms back around the other man and let himself bask in a bit of love. It _was _just some kissing. And he _was _grateful to be here for this moment at all.

Dakota was elated when he felt the old fuddy-duddy give in and meld to him, reciprocating in a way that practically declared itself a begrudging admission that Cavendish was liking this just as much. The stout man smiled against the other's lips and felt his own affection soaring. It was so cute the way Cavendish was so fussy about relaxing and doing something pleasurable just to do it. It was like he worried someone would chastise him if he didn't have a good reason to enjoy himself. Dakota aimed to fix that, and now that the other was easing up and losing himself in the passion, it proved his persistence successful as Cavendish's kiss intensified, signaling he'd managed to abandon his worry.

Sparks went off behind Dakota's eyes and his actions only became more vigorous in turn. God, he'd missed this man's love, even if he was stingy with it.

Dakota's right hand loosened and let itself stroke down Cavendish's arm, finding his hand and gingerly lacing his fingers between the other man's. He was pleased to get no fight over the action, and brought their entwined hands up to be held more comfortably against the wall.

The Italian's other hand stroked up, and once hitting Cavendish's shoulder, made its way back down along the man's side. Maybe he was getting a little greedy, but he couldn't help rolling with his ever-escalating bliss. His partner had come back to him. He was perfectly fine. They had solved their issues. Could Dakota be blamed for desire getting the better of him? The more they did it, the more kissing wasn't enough. He was just too emotional over everything that had happened. He needed this make-up to go all the way.

Not even registering his thoughts as he was wrapped up in the sensation of them, Dakota's hand subconsciously slipped down to caress Cavendish's rear. _That _certainly caught the man's attention and he gasped, freeing his hands to push both of Dakota's shoulders away from him a good foot.

"_Really, _Dakota..!"

The shorter man's hazy eyes saturated with want blinked up at Cavendish's flustered pink face, unimpressed. "Really _what. _Really into it? 'cause yeah. I am."

Feeling an embolded heat rush to his cheeks against his will at this ready confession, Cavendish attempted to keep his head. "We are as good as in public..!" he insisted, "Embracing is one thing, but this place is not ours to treat as private..!"

A hem from the other. Was that really all Cavendish was thinking about right now? "Cav...Bal..."

Cavendish blinked when he heard the most rare use of his first name's beginning syllable.

"You really think I'm being that shallow? Nobody's gonna storm in. I haven't seen you in months. I've been through an emotional roller coaster. We might be facing some serious consequences for skipping out on work and _especially _you might be in big trouble with Mr. Block...we have here. We have now to not worry about anything. It's just you and me. I wanna enjoy you. I need you to love me right now."

"Well...no, I didn't think...it was just..." Passing one more glance to the still very closed door, Cavendish really had no response to Dakota's argument. Just...wow. Cavendish hadn't even considered that he might be facing consequences for going rogue...though it probably should have been obvious.

He couldn't deny how relieving their contact was either. Maybe it wasn't easy to believe he'd missed Dakota as much as he'd insisted, but he'd always been a rather reserved man. Dakota was right, though. This wasn't some petty squabble they'd had, and emotions had been most difficult they'd ever been. If there was ever a time to give in to cementing their bond, it was now.

Stuffing down his paranoia, Cavendish took the half-step forward necessary to bring himself back against Dakota's front. "I _do_ love you," he declared with determination, "I shall continue to love you. And...you are right. This moment is for us." They needed it. He would prove he was feeling every bit as deeply as Dakota was.

Having almost been afraid Cavendish was going to pass him off as being immature with his needs, and seriously put more value into his own paranoia than the much more important emotion trying to resolve itself between them, Dakota couldn't have been happier to now see the man come back to him. And this time it was Cavendish to initiate their kiss, wrapping his arms around Dakota to keep them pressed flush together as he bowed to meet the shorter party's lips. One hand cradled the base of Dakota's skull, slender fingers brushing delicately through the tightly-curled locks there.

Dakota hummed lowly at the pleasant tickle, and squirmed slightly in delight at the clear full devotion he was being given. A new flame was lit inside him and a particular tingle awoke in his belly. He grabbed at Cavendish's coat and pushed his hips to get a bit of friction. He heard the Brit give another small gasp through his nose, but this time the wanton action was encouraged, and Dakota felt his heart flutter to receive a matching gyration against his pelvis, Cavendish's second hand wandering to gingerly squeeze the stout man's rear.

"Really, your caterwauling was so loud it's a miracle no one _did _come running to make certain you weren't being mauled..!"

"Hey, I told you I was into it. You coulda gagged me if you were so upset about it...oh hey, gang."

Reaching the end of the hallway, Dakota raised his hand briefly to find he and his partner had rejoined the spaceship control room. Cavendish quickly silenced himself, clearly hoping his comments hadn't been overheard. These post-intimacy critiques from both sides were not uncommon, and in fact such acts were usually as full of snark and bickering as any other aspect of their relationship, not that this instance had been, but words on the topic were certainly not for others' ears!

They received a glance from all present, and Doofenshmirtz greeted, "Oh hey _there _you guys are. Not that I really noticed you were missing until you came in just now, but...there you are..! Yyyyup, you sure are."

Nodding to himself, he turned his attention back to the game of Hangman he was playing with Perry the Platypus. "Ok, so where were we? Oh right. So I'm gonna guess the word. Is iiiiit 'g-g-g-g-g-g'?" He passed a knowing couple of trigger fingers to the teal platypus in a fedora sitting across from him at a small table.

Perry looked at the smug scientist and blinked evenly. "N-g-g-g-g-g-g." The low chatter that was the only sound he used to communicate rattled out of his throat.

Doofenshmirtz stood from his chair excitedly and threw his fists over his head. "Ha! I knew it! I win! I am the Hangman _king!_"

Seated between them, the cloned head of Cavendish on Perry's body looked from one to the other in perplex, clearly struggling to understand this goofy dynamic. Giving up, he just gave himself a small "guh" of defeat. He'd made a mistake joining these two for intellectual stimulation.

Walking over to an empty chair, Dakota sat down and relaxed immediately, chiding the man accompanying him with a grinning, "And you were worried." As he thought, it hadn't been anybody's business where they'd gone.

Milo beamed at the two taking a seat nearby. "Did you guys take a tour of the ship? Pretty neato, right? When you're not in the middle of freaking out about being abducted."

"Yeah, something like that," Dakota shrugged easily, putting one arm behind his head and the other around Cavendish as he slid to lean comfortably against him. "Neato-bonito."

Cavendish tensed slightly at the casual affection, but things like this were rather common for them to do in public, so he relented to it, letting himself relax into a comfortable lean as well. "Neato-bonito..?" he echoed dubiously.

A shrug. "I wanted a rhyme."

As the two carried on chatting with Milo, Zack and Melissa turned away and leaned closer to hide their own hushed words.

"Come on, they are _so _a couple..! Pay up..!" Melissa demanded.

Zack whispered back, "No way, that could mean anything..! I still maintain they might just not know what they look like. They're from the future..! Social stuff might be different then..! And besides that, I left my wallet on Earth."

Melissa smirked. "Excuses..." She knew she had this won. She never lost a bet.

Doofenshmirtz's nose wrinkled slightly as he drew up a new Hangman board, a faint scent from when he'd been passed registering. "Hey, do you guys smell that?" he polled loudly, "Something smells kinda like a lot of s-_owww_! Perry the Platypus, what was – oooooh." Following the small mammal's discreet signals with his eyes towards the minors in the room, the loudmouth scientist put together why he had been tail-slapped under the table, and as well following the short glance towards the pair sitting in casual contact, Doofenshmirtz nodded with a smug squint. "Gotchya."

Even he wasn't clueless enough to open that can of worms. But he would feel pretty high and mighty about knowing a secret. At least he assumed it was a secret.

Cavendish and Dakota had both felt a twinge of concern when Doofenshmirtz had opened his mouth, exchanging a silent look of worry that they hadn't given enough time to air out, but then the gangly weirdo shut himself up and didn't seem to want to finish his thought.

Only happy to bury the possibility of discovery, Dakota asserted to carry on the thought he'd been sharing with Milo. "So _anyway, _the first sandwich _I _wanna eat when we get back is a nice ham stacker. I'm thinkin' on ciabatta rolls. How about you? How about your friends?"

Cavendish felt a small spike of justification at what had seemed like a close shave, but was very glad to have dodged any issue, and luckily the rest of the trip carried on without incident. In any case, for Dakota, the risk had been worth it.

He was sure both of them would still delight in another comfortable argument about it later, though.


End file.
